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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25802743">Paradise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueTranslator/pseuds/RogueTranslator'>RogueTranslator</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon Universe, Dark Jack Kline, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mind Control, Mind-Controlled Castiel, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious Sam Winchester, Post-Canon, Rejection</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:35:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,066</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25802743</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueTranslator/pseuds/RogueTranslator</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two weeks after they beat Chuck, Dean takes Castiel out on a date and confesses his feelings for him. It doesn't go anything like he'd hoped.</p><p>Back in the bunker, Sam does his best to console him. An overheard conversation, however, leads Dean to suspect a far more sinister reason for Castiel's rejection than he'd initially thought.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The AO3 SPN Kink Meme</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Paradise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            Anonymous in the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/theao3spnkinkmeme">theao3spnkinkmeme</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <strong>Prompt:</strong>
</p><p>(In my personal opinion, Cas's undying devotion to Jack seems a bit fishy, especially in season 15, so here's this because I know the show will definitely not mention it at ALL:)</p><p>Castiel knows Jack's destined to make the world a paradise, and he is glad - blessed, even - to be able to help him do that. Jack entrusted him with his life, after all, as a baby, and after not being there for his first few months of birth, Castiel knows that he can - he <i>must</i> - make it up by putting Jack first because he loves him, and as the Winchesters know, that's what love is. </p><p>Even if it means rejecting Dean's advances, because he cannot love Dean romantically and still be able to protect and lead and guide Jack in the way he deserves as Jack is a child, and Dean would take up too much of their time together.</p><p>It's for the greater good.</p><p>-</p><p>I think of it as a hurt/no comfort?<br/>Personally I'd love a Dean POV but it's really up to you (though if you do do a Dean POV maybe include some sort of thing of him maybe thinking that Jack's controlling Cas because Cas mentioned Jack a lot during their convo, but then brushing it off by him being jealous and he's just misreading the situation. Maybe some panic about how it took him so long to come to terms that he was Bi and liked Cas and now it all means nothing because he'd been misreading the situation and Cas didn't like him back and thought they were just bros being bros?).<br/>Maybe also including a clueless Sam who's not in the bunker/wherever this happens, but comes back and notices something's wrong and tries to ask Dean, who brushes him off (because I love angsty brother feels). Also maybe including Cas awkwardly 'friend-zoning' Dean?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This wasn’t going how Dean had imagined it would.</p><p>“Cass?” Dean crept past the table’s midpoint, rested his hand over Castiel’s. “Did you hear me?”</p><p>“Yes,” Castiel said, as if that were enough.</p><p>It was a Wednesday afternoon; they were sitting in Russell’s Restaurant in Salina. Dean had ordered the chicken fried steak with Texas toast and extra gravy. He’d been too anxious to eat more than a couple bites.</p><p>It’d taken him a while—years, if he was being honest, but about forty minutes once they’d sat down in the diner—to finally work up the nerve. But he’d said it.</p><p><em>Cass, I—I think I have feelings for you,</em> he’d blurted, after his eyes had been fixed on the gleaming knife beside his platter of food for so long that his neck ached. <em>I think I’ve had them for a long time, but I didn’t want to admit it. And I’m wondering, hoping—maybe you feel something too?</em></p><p>When there was no response, he’d chanced a look. Castiel’s expression was inscrutable. That’s why, as stupid as it sounded in retrospect, he asked if he’d heard him.</p><p>“Uh.” Dean rubbed the tip of his thumb over Castiel’s. “Say something, then.”</p><p>Castiel glanced at Dean’s thumb. “Dean, I’m flattered.”</p><p>Oh, no.</p><p>Hot bile rose in Dean’s chest. His hand froze.</p><p>“You don’t—I just thought—”</p><p>“Dean, I love you deeply. As a friend, a brother, a partner in the trenches. I trust you with my life.”</p><p>Dean’s hand slunk back over the varnished wood and dropped to his side. It trembled against his thigh.</p><p>“But I don’t feel the same way about you.” Castiel shrugged. “Maybe, as an angel, I can’t. I don’t know.”</p><p>Dean dragged the tines of his fork through the gravy, which had congealed in the time it’d taken him to bring up the entire reason he’d taken Castiel out to lunch. <em>Your first date,</em> Sam had said, back at the bunker. <em>Fingers crossed.</em></p><p>“Besides,” Castiel said, almost as an afterthought. “I can’t be distracted right now. The mission has to come first.”</p><p>Dean frowned. Chuck was gone, Jack had gotten Castiel out of his Empty deal, and their days consisted of two-bit vamp and wolf hunts that other hunters forwarded to them. They were basically in semi-retirement.</p><p>“What mission?” Dean looked up. “Heaven got you running errands for them again?”</p><p>Castiel tilted his head. He narrowed his eyes into an equal mix of bemusement and condescension.</p><p>“My most important mission of all, Dean. Raising Jack to be the man his mother knew he would be. Helping him fulfill his destiny.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Dean pursed his lips. “Yeah, of course. Just funny that you call it a mission.”</p><p>“Now that Chuck’s gone and we’ve faced our last apocalypse, my focus has to be Jack. Anything else would just be a distraction.” Castiel’s eyes flicked to Dean’s plate, and a flash of disdain darkened his visage. “I’m Jack’s father. He deserves my undivided attention.”</p><p>Dean nodded through his unease. Something about Castiel’s cadence seemed off, and the split-second look of utter contempt he’d given him was one that he directed at demons or Lucifer, not at the man he’d given up everything for.</p><p>“Okay,” Dean said cautiously. “I respect that. As long as that’s what you want, Cass.”</p><p>Castiel furrowed his brow. Bemused condescension again.</p><p>“Why would I want anything other than that? My destiny lies with Jack. I’ve known it since the day he showed me the future.”</p><p>“Yeah. Okay. But even if that’s true, it doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to have anything else. Plenty of people balance parenthood with other things. Careers. Friends, hobbies.” Dean passed his tongue over his lower lip. “Relationships.”</p><p>“Like your father balanced other things? Or mine?” Castiel shook his head. “No, Dean. Jack deserves everything I can give him. Nothing less.”</p><p>“Cass—”</p><p>“You should eat,” Castiel interrupted. “We’ve been sitting here for nearly an hour now.”</p><p>He had even less of an appetite after Castiel’s rejection, not to mention his odd behavior in its aftermath. But without knowing how to address it, he speared a strip of beef and chewed. Maybe he could fill the silence with some mundanity until he figured out what came next.</p><p>“How’s everything?”</p><p>Dean looked up; the waitress was refilling his water. Her apron was cinched tight around her narrow waist and Dean thought about how, in another lifetime, he would’ve tried his luck without hesitation.</p><p>“Uh, we’ll actually take the check now,” Dean managed.</p><p>“Dessert menu?” she said, producing a laminated card from her back pocket.</p><p>“No thank you.”</p><p>She and Castiel exchanged a puzzled glance.</p><p>“Dean, you always get a slice of pie when we come here,” Castiel said.</p><p>Dean shook his head. His eyes were starting to sting. “Just the check.”</p><p>She walked back to the kitchen, and Dean watched her hips out of habit. He felt nothing. At some point in the past year—he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when—the angel across from him had supplanted all else in that region of his mind. Castiel was all he wanted now. The blow of being spurned hurt that much more because of it.</p><p>They talked little on the drive home. Castiel tried conversation several times early on, but Dean shut him down, and eventually he took the hint.</p><p>“You can head in,” Dean said, once he’d parked in front of the bunker’s entrance. “I’m going to, um, make a call.”</p><p>“Okay,” Castiel said, after a beat. He could probably tell Dean was lying, but he didn’t let on. “See you inside.”</p><p>Dean took out his phone for appearances. He spent a few minutes tapping through it, until he was reasonably confident that Castiel had moved on from the war room and he’d be able to slink in, back to his bedroom for the rest of the day. The last thing he’d wanted was for them to descend the staircase together, to Sam’s expectant grin. That would’ve squashed him even flatter than he was already feeling.</p><p>Nevertheless, when he walked through the interior door, Sam was waiting by the map table. His smile became cloying concern once he saw Dean’s slumped posture, and he followed Dean down the hallway after he brushed past him without a word.</p><p>“Dean?”</p><p>“Leave me alone, Sam.”</p><p>“What—what happened?”</p><p>Dean stopped at the corner of the hallway. He shrugged and shook his head.</p><p>“Dean, I’m sorry.” Sam rubbed Dean’s shoulder. “I thought—I mean, I was sure Cass felt the same way you do.”</p><p>“Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t.” Dean resumed his path. “Maybe he can’t fall in love like humans can. I doubt even he knows.”</p><p>“I don’t believe that,” Sam said, following behind.</p><p>“The one thing he was clear about, though? There isn’t room for both me and Jack in his life.” Dean walked into his room and turned on his nightstand lamp. “Guess who he chose?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Sam scratched his temple. “Did you tell him that single parents enter new relationships all the time?”</p><p>Dean pulled off his shoes and threw them at his closet door. He sprawled back in his bed and shut his eyes.</p><p>“I mean, was it a definite no, or more of an ‘I’m not sure what I feel’ thing?”</p><p>“Just—” Dean waved dismissively. “Go away, Sam. I don’t want to talk right now.”</p><p>Sam sighed. His weight at the foot of the bed didn’t shift, and Dean realized that he was waiting him out.</p><p>“I took too long,” Dean said, not caring that he was putting lie to the last thing he said. “I made him wait for me all these years; I let all the mistakes and misunderstandings pile up between us. I took too long, Sam, and now he only has room for Jack.”</p><p>“He probably just needs time to think it over. I mean, it’s only been a couple weeks since everything with Chuck and Amara and Billie…and Jack. He might still be figuring things out.”</p><p>Dean opened his eyes again. “Yeah, maybe.”</p><p>“Want me to try talking to him? Maybe see where his head’s at?”</p><p>“No. No, I don’t need you playing matchmaker even more. You’re obvious enough as it is.”</p><p>For most of the past week, Sam had been doing everything in his power to push him and Castiel together. He’d pick up dinner and place Dean and Castiel’s entrées close together on one side of the table before announcing that the food had arrived. He’d start movies for the four of them, then remember something he urgently needed Jack’s help with ten minutes in. And now, apparently, Dean had some sort of essential tremor that required Sam to drive the Impala when they went on long trips, leaving Castiel and Dean together in the back seat.</p><p>“Just give him time,” Sam was saying. “He might change his mind. Although, if he doesn’t—you’re going to have to respect that too.”</p><p>“I know,” Dean said, with more indignation than he felt.</p><p>“Okay. Just making sure. Because whatever happens, we all still have to live together.”</p><p>Dean waved him off tiredly. “Good talk, Sammy. I’m going to mope in front of some cartoons now, if that’s fine with you.”</p><p>Sam chuckled and patted Dean’s ankle. He shuffled out of the room, closing the door gently behind him.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>When Dean’s hunger finally got the better of him, he went to the kitchen to heat up something for dinner. There was a <em>Scooby-Doo</em> marathon on, and he figured he’d eat in front of his TV and maybe fall asleep to it. After that—well, maybe things wouldn’t feel so bleak in the morning.</p><p>There were soft voices in the kitchen. Without knowing why, Dean paused beside the doorway to listen.</p><p>“I’m proud of you,” Jack was saying.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“For resisting him. I know you must have been tempted.”</p><p>“I wasn’t,” Castiel said, sounding uncharacteristically flustered.</p><p>“You used to yearn for him,” Jack said. “You used to dream of the two of you, together.”</p><p>“That was a long time ago,” Castiel insisted. “Before I had you. My beautiful son.”</p><p>Jack let out a soft sigh of contentment. Dean assumed they were hugging.</p><p>“Promise you’ll never leave me.”</p><p>“I promise I’ll never leave you,” Castiel said, his voice a featureless monotone.</p><p>“I’m all you need. No one else.”</p><p>“All I need,” Castiel echoed. “No one else.”</p><p>Jack cleared his throat.</p><p>“Jack?” Castiel’s voice quivered. “Sorry, I think my mind was wandering. What were we talking about?”</p><p>“It’s okay. You were saying we could play Connect Four.”</p><p>“That’s right. Let’s go.”</p><p>Dean peeked around the doorway. Castiel and Jack exited the kitchen through the other door and disappeared into the war room.</p><p>He felt like all the air had been sucked out of his chest. What the hell?</p><p>“Hey,” Sam said from behind him. Dean whipped around. “Whoa, what’s wrong?”</p><p>“Sam, how long have you been there?”</p><p>“Uh, I just walked out of my room. Was going to make some tea.”</p><p>“So you didn’t hear—” Dean jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “Jack and Cass?”</p><p>“No?” Sam peered at him. “Dean, what’s going on?”</p><p>Dean blinked. “Sam, have you noticed anything weird going on with Cass lately? Or Jack?”</p><p>“Weird how?”</p><p>“Like—” Dean swallowed. “Mind control weird.”</p><p>“Mind control,” Sam said dully.</p><p>“Shh,” Dean hissed. “Jack might hear.”</p><p>“’Jack might—‘” Sam grabbed Dean by the sleeve of his robe and pulled him back down the hallway. He didn’t release him until they were ensconced behind the closed door of Dean’s room.</p><p>“Let me go! And don’t look at me like that, Sam.”</p><p>“Dean, listen to yourself. Mind control? And why’re you afraid of Jack?”</p><p>“There’s something going on, I can tell. Something’s wrong with him. He’s controlling Cass, I don’t know why. Jack’s the one who made him turn me down. Cass wanted to say yes. Stop looking at me like I’ve lost it!”</p><p>Sam sighed. “Dean, I know it’s hard, but maybe Cass just doesn’t feel the same way about you.”</p><p>“He does! It’s Jack who won’t let him admit it!”</p><p>“It hurts.” Sam reached out, patted both of his shoulders. “I know it hurts. Heck, we’ve all been there. But you just have to live with the hurt for a few days. Eventually, either Cass will change his mind, or you’ll get past it.”</p><p>“Sam!”</p><p>“But that starts with acceptance. Denial—that’ll just drag out the pain.”</p><p>Dean threw Sam’s hands off. “You’re not listening.”</p><p>“Okay. Let’s say you’re right: Jack’s mind-controlling Cass. He’s the one forcing Cass to say he’s not interested. Why would he do that?”</p><p>“I don’t know, Sam. Because he’s jealous?”</p><p>“He’s three.”</p><p>“Not like that. He doesn’t want to share Cass with anyone else. You know how little kids get jealous when their parents give their attention to anyone else?”</p><p>“But Jack’s never been that way, Dean.”</p><p>“Really?” Dean licked his lips. “The kid’s never gone darkside before?”</p><p>Sam hesitated.</p><p>“Look,” Dean said. “I’m not saying we hold him down and interrogate him.”</p><p>“Not like we could.”</p><p>“Just—we need to keep an eye on him. Maybe he went cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs when we swapped out Chuck for the newer model.”</p><p>“Okay,” Sam said. “Okay, Dean. As long as you promise not to do anything rash.”</p><p>“Who, me?”</p><p>“You have to give yourself time to grieve. Who knows, maybe everything with Cass—and whatever you think’s going on with Jack—will look completely different in the morning.”</p><p>“Cass wants to be with me,” Dean said. “I know he does.”</p><p>Sam rubbed his forehead. “Alright, I’m going to make my tea now. I think I’m getting a headache.”</p><p>Sam left for the kitchen. Dean’s appetite had gone again, replaced with cold dread. Some of their lowest points and closest calls—the Mark, Naomi, Leviathans, the siren case all those years ago—had transpired because of mind control. It always gave him the heebie-jeebies.</p><p>Though it was perfunctory, he considered whether he’d misinterpreted Jack and Castiel’s interaction—whether he’d wandered into the hallway at the exact moment that would strip the conversation of some redemptive context. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d jumped to conclusions with something involving Castiel.</p><p>No. There wasn’t another explanation. Something was wrong with Jack—his soul was on the fritz again, or something about taking over Chuck’s duties was corrupting him. If Jack’s humanity had been compromised, they were all in danger. Not just their family—the entire world.</p><p>In that moment, though, all Dean could think about was Castiel.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>He tried talking to Castiel the next morning, while Sam and Jack were in the workroom, going through even more boxes of artifacts in the Men of Letters’ deep storage.</p><p>“Crazy how we’ve lived here for seven years,” Dean said, sitting down beside him. “And we still haven’t inventoried everything.”</p><p>“Well, it’s not that surprising. It took the Men of Letters hundreds of years to amass their collection. And there are only two of you.”</p><p>“Three of us. Four, once Jack came along.”</p><p>“Right,” Castiel said, with a placating smile. “Well, Man of Letters or not, I’m just happy to be included.”</p><p>Dean sipped his coffee. Now that he knew Jack was manipulating Castiel’s mind, having the most basic conversation felt like weaving through a minefield.</p><p>“Cass. Are you—are you feeling alright?”</p><p>Castiel tilted his head.</p><p>“Any headaches? Forgetfulness? Missing time?”</p><p>“No, Dean. As a matter of fact, I feel better than I have in a long while.”</p><p>“Huh.”</p><p>“How about you?”</p><p>“Me?”</p><p>“Yes. I could tell that I hurt you yesterday. I’m sorry for that. Part of me wishes I felt the same way.”</p><p>Dean snorted. There was some truth there, at least.</p><p>“Cass, uh, when you say you’re feeling better than you have in a while, what do you mean?”</p><p>“Just—” Castiel paused abruptly and stared off at the corner of the kitchen. “I feel at peace. For the first time in many years. There’s this tranquility, contentment. Like I finally have everything I ever wanted.”</p><p>The hairs on the back of Dean’s neck stood on end. From what he knew of mind control, the subject was pretty far gone once he’d been lulled into the utter serenity which Castiel was describing.</p><p>“Doesn’t that feel weird?”</p><p>Castiel frowned. “No. It feels good.”</p><p>“I mean, not wanting anything. That’s not life, Cass. You said it yourself. Life’s an obstacle course. You’re constantly pushing through the hard times because you want something more.”</p><p>“Not now.” Castiel folded his hands together. “Because of Jack, we all get to live in paradise. No more suffering. No more doubting myself; no more needing to prove myself to you.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“For a long time—from when I first fell from Heaven for you, come to think of it—I thought I needed you to complete me.” Castiel patted Dean’s arm. “But when Jack came into my life, he showed me that it was him I’d been waiting for all along, not you. You were just…there.”</p><p>“No.” Dean shook his head. “No, Cass, this isn’t you.”</p><p>“I made the same mistake Amara made,” Castiel said, unfazed. “She imprinted on you because you were the first human she met. She thought she needed you to complete her. But she really needed her family. Her real family.”</p><p>“I’m your family! Me and Sam!”</p><p>“No. Well, maybe in some nebulous sense. But Jack’s the one I’m meant to be with. Just like Chuck completes Amara, Jack completes me.”</p><p>Dean threw his empty coffee mug at the kitchen floor, where it shattered into a dozen pieces. Castiel flinched.</p><p>“Cass, you need to snap out of it. This isn’t you, it’s Jack. He’s controlling you.”</p><p>Castiel rubbed his brow. “Why would you say something like that? I thought you’d finally come to accept Jack.”</p><p>“He’s got his hooks in your brain, you stupid son of a bitch! You’re practically drooling the Kool-Aid he’s been pumping into you!”</p><p>“Don’t talk that way about him,” Castiel growled. “I mean it, Dean.”</p><p>Dean grabbed Castiel’s nape. “Look at me. Look at me, Cass.”</p><p>“Dean….”</p><p>“Please.”</p><p>After a few seconds, Castiel relaxed. He turned to face him.</p><p>“Cass, you’re my family. And I’m yours. And I know it hasn’t always been smooth sailing between us, but the fact that you’d question that—come on, man. The only time you’ve ever said I wasn’t your family was when the Leviathans were controlling you.” He stroked Castiel’s neck. “Look at me, Cass. Don’t look away.”</p><p>“Dean.” Castiel blinked rapidly, and his eyes focused on Dean’s face as if he were seeing it for the first time after a long separation. “I love you, Dean.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Dean felt himself tearing up. “I know, Cass. I love you too.”</p><p>“I feel—” Castiel’s neck went slack, and Dean steadied him. “What’s happening, Dean? I feel strange.”</p><p>“It’s okay. It’s okay, Cass. I’m here. You just need to stay with me, alright? Whatever happens, don’t—”</p><p>“Father?”</p><p>They both turned to the sound of Jack’s voice. He was standing in the doorway, holding a box of what looked like toys but were probably cursed artifacts, given the fact that the Men of Letters had stored them away.</p><p>“Father, what are you doing?”</p><p>“I’m—Dean and I are just talking.”</p><p>“Don’t lie, Father. I can tell when you’re lying.”</p><p>Castiel hung his head submissively. He turned back to Dean, and the focus in his eyes had vanished, replaced with a sickly-sweet, smiling glaze.</p><p>“Cass?”</p><p>“I should go. Jack needs me.”</p><p>“Sam’s with him,” Dean said, but Castiel was already rising up from the table bench. “We were in the middle of a conversation, Cass.”</p><p>“Maybe later,” Castiel said. “If Jack doesn’t need my help.”</p><p>He joined Jack in the hallway. Before they slipped out of sight, Jack glanced back at Dean with a friendly, if impassive, expression, as if everything were perfectly normal.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>That night, when Sam and Castiel got up to do the dinner dishes and Jack walked to the library, Dean took his chance.</p><p>“Jack?” Dean said, from the table end. “Can I, uh, talk to you about something?”</p><p>Jack removed his earphones and pushed his chair back. “Sure.”</p><p>“How’re you feeling, man?”</p><p>“Good.” Jack shrugged. “I hear Chuck sometimes. Whispering to me from his cage. And I feel Amara’s energy pushing up against…everything in Creation, which means I have to push back. But yeah, good.”</p><p>So, he was hearing Chuck and feeling Amara. Neither of those sounded good, regardless of what Jack said.</p><p>“What’s Chuck saying to you?”</p><p>“Oh, you know. The usual. ‘Let me out and I promise I’ll never bother you again.’ ‘There’s so much I can teach you.’ ‘We’re family.’”</p><p>“Huh.” Dean sat down on the edge of the table. “Does he ever say anything about me? Or Cass?”</p><p>Jack raised an eyebrow. “No.”</p><p>“Oh. Okay. What about Amara? Having to push back against her all the time must be stressful.”</p><p>“It’s not too bad. You get used to it. It’s kind of like—you know how you have back pain most days, now that you’re in your forties?”</p><p>Dean scowled.</p><p>“My dad told me. He says he soothes it whenever he heals you.”</p><p>He cleared his throat. “What’s your point?”</p><p>“Well, the Darkness is sort of like that. It’s this constant pressure on me—my grace, my being, whatever. It’s not pleasant, exactly, but since it’s always there, I’m used to it.”</p><p>“Huh. And this pressure—it’s not, I don’t know, difficult for you to handle?”</p><p>“Not really.”</p><p>“Maybe affecting your mind, too? Not just your body?”</p><p>“No.” Jack gave him a strange look. “There’s something you’re not saying.”</p><p>“Look, Jack,” Dean sighed. “I heard you and Cass talking in the kitchen last night. Now, maybe I don’t know the full story, and I don’t know why you’re doing it, but it isn’t okay.”</p><p>“I’m confused. What isn’t okay?”</p><p>“Don’t play dumb.” Dean lowered his voice. “I know you’re mind-controlling Cass. Or influencing his thoughts, at least.”</p><p>“I’m his son.” Jack traced his index finger over the table’s carved initials. “It’s normal for him to think of me first.”</p><p>“That’s not what I mean. I mean you forcing him to—”</p><p>“To turn you down?” Jack glared at him. “That’s what this is about, right? You wanting him all to yourself, like you always have?”</p><p>Dean blinked. The fury on Jack’s face was palpable. Dangerous.</p><p>“I see the way you look at him. I hear the things you think about him. He doesn’t want you in that way.”</p><p>“That’s up to him to decide, not you.”</p><p>Jack looked down and shook his head.</p><p>“Jack, it’s—it’s okay. I understand what you’re feeling. It’s normal to be jealous when your parent—”</p><p>“I’m not jealous,” Jack said. “<em>You’re</em> jealous. You wish he loved you as much as he loves me. You can’t stand that he has something else in his life that isn’t you. You treat Sam the same way.”</p><p>“No.” Dean pushed himself up. “No, you’re wrong. Look, Jack, I’m not sure what’s going on with you, but you’re not thinking straight. It could be Chuck or—or the Darkness; one of them could be affecting you. The four of us need to have a family meeting and figure out what to do.”</p><p>“’Family meeting,’” Jack scoffed. “I’m only your family when it’s convenient for you.”</p><p>“How can you say that?”</p><p>“My first memory of you is down the barrel of a gun. You tried to kill me. My dad says you tried to kill him, too, when you first met. What kind of family is that?”</p><p>“That’s not fair. All that was years ago.”</p><p>“Then what about everything since? Blaming me for Castiel dying. Telling me I should be dead. Lying to me. Trapping me, then trying to kill me in front of my dad.”</p><p>“It—it wasn’t like that! We had reasons.”</p><p>“Like what, Chuck?” Jack smiled. “That’s true, Chuck was behind everything you did. But that also means he made you everything you are. And then, when ‘we’ beat him, it wasn’t really ‘us.’ It was me.” He stood up slowly, stretched his arms above his head sinuously. “It was never you, Dean. None of it. You aren’t a hero. You’re just an angry drunk who treats everyone around you like they’re your property.”</p><p>As he spoke, Jack’s voice fluctuated between his own register and another one—a higher one, at a further remove. An inhuman one.</p><p>“Jack, this isn’t you. Think about what you’re saying. What you’re doing to Cass. Think about what Sam and I taught you about free will.”</p><p>Jack giggled. “This is what I learned about free will from you, Dean. Free will means you—” Jack jabbed his finger into Dean’s chest— “get to do anything you want. Not Sam, or Castiel, or me, though. We all get lectured and shouted at and pushed around by you once we think for ourselves, once we do anything you disapprove of. And you never let us forget when we’re wrong, either.”</p><p>“That’s a load of crap.”</p><p>“Free will also means <em>you</em> get to kill anyone you feel like. Because you killed them, they deserved it. But the second a ‘monster’—” here, he used air quotes— “hurts anyone, whether they had a reason to or not, well, they have to die. ‘Monsters’ don’t get to make mistakes, even though you do. And there’s nothing you lust after more than getting to be the one who drives the blade through that monster’s heart. Although…maybe you lust after my dad more. I don’t know.”</p><p>Dean’s eyes widened. He stepped back.</p><p>“Who are you?”</p><p>“I’m God,” Jack replied. “I’m God, and this is my Paradise. I’m just letting you live in it.”</p><p>“Alright, Jack, listen to me. Something’s happened to you. I don’t know what and I don’t know when, but you’re not right in the head. Now, we can fix this, but the first thing we need to do is tell Cass everything. You need to let go of your grip on his mind.”</p><p>“No.” Jack laughed again. “Dean, you dummy. You just don’t get it. I’m God, and Castiel is one of my angels. He’s bound to me in a way he’ll never be to you. We’ll be together forever, long after you’re gone.”</p><p>“Jack, come on. This is nuts.”</p><p>“He loved you, you know,” Jack said, almost wistfully. “Once.”</p><p>“Jack—”</p><p>“He told me. He said he gave up everything to be with you, but you never cared enough to see it. He said you only saw him as a tool; that he’d never experienced unconditional love until I came into his life. He said that I’m the one he’d been waiting for all along.”</p><p>“You’re lying. Cass would never say that.” Dean crossed his arms. “And mind control isn’t love. Unconditional or otherwise.”</p><p>“I’m bored now,” Jack said. “Go deliver your self-righteous speeches to a mirror somewhere.”</p><p>“You listen to me, you brat. If you know anything about me and Cass, you know that the most dangerous place in the universe for someone to be is between the two of us—aside from between me and Sam, maybe. Now, I’m giving you the chance to drop this insanity right now, before I have to do what I have to do to free him. Because let me tell you something: Cass always takes my side. Every time. And when he finds out what you’ve been up to, when he takes back control, it isn’t going to be pretty.”</p><p>Jack smirked. “He’ll never choose you over me.”</p><p>“Oh, you think so? Well, I wouldn’t put money on that if I were you, kid. A lot of people have made that bet, and all of them have lost.”</p><p>“None of them were his son.”</p><p>“You aren’t his son,” Dean snapped. “You’re the spawn of Lucifer, and you’re showing that more than ever. And no matter what it takes, I’m going to make sure Cass sees you for what you are.”</p><p>“Dean!”</p><p>They both turned to the library doorway, where Castiel stood, slack-jawed.</p><p>“Dean, what’s wrong with you?”</p><p>“Cass.” Dean pointed at Jack. “You heard him, right? You heard what he was saying?”</p><p>“No, I—I came when I heard shouting. All I heard were the terrible things you just said.”</p><p>“Father!” Jack ran to Castiel, wrapped his arms around him. “Father, Dean’s being mean.”</p><p>“It’s okay.” Castiel embraced him; he stroked the back of Jack’s head. “Shh, it’s okay.”</p><p>“Cass, listen to me.”</p><p>“No, Dean. There’s no excuse. How could you say such hurtful things? It isn’t Jack’s fault that Lucifer was his father. Hasn’t he done enough to prove himself to you? Even after he’s brought the world paradise, you still only see him as a monster.”</p><p>“There’s something wrong with him, you idiot! He’s turned you into his puppet. Man, he’s got his hand so far up your ass, he’s tickling your throat.”</p><p>“Enough. Enough, Dean. I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but you need to apologize to Jack. Right now.”</p><p>“No fucking way. He can kiss my ass.”</p><p>“Dean!”</p><p>“It’s okay,” Jack piped up. “He doesn’t have to apologize. I forgive him.”</p><p>“Jack, it’s not okay. Dean shouldn’t speak to you like that. He’s being a bully.”</p><p>“I think he’s just upset. He wants you all to himself, and he’s frustrated that he has to share you with me.”</p><p>Castiel seemed to process this. He turned to Dean, who rolled his eyes in response.</p><p>“Dean, is this true? Is that why you said such awful things to Jack?”</p><p>“This is ridiculous. I’m not playing along anymore.” Dean stormed past the two of them, then turned back at the library’s threshold.</p><p>“It’s okay,” Castiel was cooing to Jack, as if Dean had already left. “Don’t listen to him.”</p><p>“Cass, I want to talk to you,” Dean said. “Alone.”</p><p>Castiel ignored him. He soothed left and right along Jack’s shoulders, the motion of his hand like the swinging of a pendulum.</p><p>“Cass, please. It’s me. I need you.”</p><p>“It’s okay,” Castiel murmured. He rested his cheek against the crown of Jack’s head.</p><p>From Castiel’s shoulder, Jack lifted his eyes to Dean and smiled.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Sam knocked on Dean’s door in the morning. He was wearing sunglasses and had a gym bag slung over one shoulder.</p><p>“You look terrible,” Sam said.</p><p>“Thanks. Yeah, I didn’t sleep much.”</p><p>“Cass?” Sam leaned against the doorframe. “Why am I asking. Of course it is.”</p><p>Dean sat back, looked Sam up and down.</p><p>“What’s with the shorts?”</p><p>“I’m meeting Eileen at a festival in Colorado. I told you about it the other day, remember?”</p><p>“Right,” Dean said, vaguely recalling something like that.</p><p>“I’ll be back Sunday night. Unless….”</p><p>“Unless what?”</p><p>“Unless you need me here. For support.”</p><p>Dean snorted. “Don’t worry, Sam. I can watch <em>The Notebook</em> and cry into my tub of ice cream all on my own. That’s all you think this is, after all.”</p><p>“Don’t joke. I know how you’re feeling—”</p><p>“No.” Dean slammed his laptop shut. “You don’t have the slightest idea of how I’m feeling. How could you? You don’t believe me about Cass. About Jack. You think I’m delusional.”</p><p>“I don’t think that, Dean. I just think—look, I just think you’re under a lot of stress right now. You invested everything you had into the hope that you and Cass would be together, and it’s hard to accept that it might not be meant to be. It hurts. I know it hurts. And because you’re not used to it, it probably hurts more.”</p><p>“Because the only thing I know about is meaningless sex, right? I’m just a dumb manwhore?”</p><p>“No. Dean, that’s not what—”</p><p>“God, you suck at this.” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just—just go. Have a good weekend with Eileen.”</p><p>Sam hesitated. Then, he pulled his gym bag further up his shoulder and retreated into the hallway.</p><p>“Call me if you need anything,” Sam said evenly.</p><p>“Yup.”</p><p>Sam’s footsteps faded down the corridor to the garage. Dean shut his door softly and looked down at his legal pad. He’d listed out a few bullet points: <em>Separate Jack and Cass. Recording devices. Holy oil. Warding—Rowena? Call Billie and Amara. Talk to Chuck??</em></p><p>He pressed his hands to his head. Somehow, in spite of everything he’d seen and heard, he felt doubts creeping in. The situation made so little sense that he couldn’t begrudge Sam his skepticism.</p><p>Over the next two hours, he showered, shaved, finished off the last of the coffee, and expanded his list of bullet points to include a plan of attack. At first, it was tightly chronological, before dispersing into a constellation of musings, gallows humor, and self-recriminations.</p><p>
  <em>Maybe Jack has a crush on him? Angelic Oedipus/Electra complex?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That’s the first date I’ve been on that was ruined by mind control.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>…Wait. Is it?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I should’ve seen it earlier. Could’ve saved him.</em>
</p><p>Dean stood up, deciding to do a few circuits of the bunker to clear his head. He bumped into Castiel at one of the hallway junctions, near Jack’s room. A backpack dangled from his left hand.</p><p>“What’s in the bag?”</p><p>“It’s some of Jack’s clothes. And his toothbrush, deodorant. Things like that.”</p><p>It seemed like every muscle in Dean’s body tensed, and there was an odd heat in the pit of his stomach.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Oh, we’re going on a trip.”</p><p>“What? Since when?”</p><p>“Kaia sent Jack a text this morning. She and Claire are staying at Donna’s cabin for a few nights, and she invited Jack to visit.”</p><p>“Jack,” Dean echoed. “So, he’s going on his own?”</p><p>Castiel peered at him with deep pity, as if what he’d just suggested were so obviously stupid that there would be no helping him.</p><p>“No, of course not. Jack needs me to go with him.”</p><p>“Come on.” Dean took a step forward, and Castiel’s gaze flicked to Dean’s lips, just for a moment. “He doesn’t need a chaperone. The whole point of kids going off to the middle of nowhere for the weekend is to get away from their parents.”</p><p>“I don’t know. Jack says—”</p><p>“Besides, then you and I can spend some time together.” Dean squeezed Castiel’s shoulder. “That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?”</p><p>Castiel gulped. The already-dangling backpack fell from his hand softly.</p><p>“Yes,” Castiel mumbled. Dean could feel him shivering underneath his trench coat.</p><p>“It’s going to be okay, Cass. Where’s Jack?”</p><p>“Right here,” said the voice behind him, and Dean wheeled around. He was wearing sunglasses reminiscent of Belphegor. He was grinning.</p><p>“Jack.” Castiel hunched down, picked up the backpack. “I finished getting your things.”</p><p>“Thank you, Father. Did you say goodbye to Dean?”</p><p>“Cass is staying here,” Dean said. The panic in his voice was transparent, but he didn’t care.</p><p>“No,” Castiel said. “No, I never said that.”</p><p>“Of course not. I need you. Dean will be fine for a few days. Won’t you, Dean?”</p><p>Dean balled his fists and stared at the hallway tiles.</p><p>“Well, we better get going, Father,” Jack said. “You should say goodbye to Dean. Who knows, we might be gone longer than a few days.”</p><p>“No,” Dean protested. “No, please.”</p><p>“We’ll be fine.” Castiel hugged him. “Don’t worry.”</p><p>Dean pulled him in as much as he could. He whispered into the warmth of his temple.</p><p>“Cass, I know you’re still in there. I’m coming. Just hang on. I’ll find a way to free you, I promise.”</p><p>“That’s enough, Father,” Jack said cheerily. “We’ll be late.”</p><p>Castiel drew back. He stood in the middle of the hallway, looking at Dean with a bland simper that betrayed nothing.</p><p>To Dean’s surprise, Jack embraced him as well. Dean recoiled at first, then leaned in to Jack’s ear.</p><p>“I’m getting Cass back,” Dean said to him. “No matter what it takes. Nothing’s going to stop me.”</p><p>Jack released Dean and took Castiel’s hand.</p><p>“Goodbye, Dean.”</p><p>Castiel gave a brief wave. There was the sound of angel wings and the laughter of a small child, two or three. Then, Dean was alone.</p><p>Dean staggered backward and slid down the corridor wall. He tilted his head back into the concrete. The lights above were too bright for him to see anything, but he stared up anyway.</p><p>“Cass,” he said. His voice echoed in the empty bunker. “Cass, I promise.”</p>
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